


I Am...Me?

by ToastyDehmer



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon), Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, And I've had this troll boi for ages, And Lop loves every moment of it, BLU just gets absolutely MURDERED, I just wanted to make an origin thingy for him, Look I just love fusions, M/M, No DadSpy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24521545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToastyDehmer/pseuds/ToastyDehmer
Summary: Cupid and Spy get surrounded by BLU. All their teammates are still going through respawn and they're the only ones left to keep the BLUs from winning. Alone, they stand no chance. But together....Well, first time for everything, right?
Relationships: Scout & Spy (Team Fortress 2), Scout/Sniper (Team Fortress 2), Sniper & Spy (Team Fortress 2)
Kudos: 12





	I Am...Me?

**Author's Note:**

> I love fusions, don't @ me.
> 
> Okay but seriously, this troll boy is dear to my heart and I love him so much I hope someone else is able to enjoy his bloodythirsty shenanigans and identity-crisis angst.
> 
> Not my best work, I'll admit but I added to this when I got bored as a sort of exercise so it's not meant to be one of my better ones lol

They were cornered, BLU bastards surrounding them on all sides. All their teammates laid in pieces in the clearing, their bodies not yet picked up by respawn. Not that it would matter. By the time they came back Spy and Sniper would be done for and the enemy in the base wreacking havoc and taking whatever they wanted - again. Spy cursed his luck, his and his team’s. Four days straight with no wins wasn’t very promising. And today was looking to be day five. It would be the longest losing streak they’ve had, the other lasting just four and a half days and because they all caught the damn flu!

But this time there was no such excuse. Hope would be lost...except Spy and his teammates had a card hidden up their sleeves and all thanks to their brilliant doctor once more.

“Sniper,” Spy hummed under his breath. The BLU Heavy advanced with a sharp grin, one fist punching his other meaty palm. Normally, Spy would be more than happy to blow those eyes out of their damned skull but sadly both he and Sniper were out of ammo. “I think it is about time we test out the doctor’s...hypothesis.”

“One, I’ve told you how many times to call me Cupid?” the bastard griped, back pressed up against Spy’s, stupid, tiny, useless wings folded in tightly. “Two….I think you might be right.”

The BLU Soldier and Demoman crowded in behind Heavy. Their window was steadily closing but timing was everything. Spy grabbed Cupid’s hand and held three fingers off their flesh. Closer their enemies and for each moment another finger went down in a silent countdown.

The BLU Medic let out a toxic chuckle and purred, “Time for your operation, REDs.”

One.

The BLU Scout gleefully tapped their bat on the ground on the other side of their little circle out of Spy’s sight. “Man, I got dibs on that bastard Spy! Payback’s a bitch, pally.”

Two.

“Enough!” The Engineer. “Let’s get this over with already.”

Three.

“Now!” Spy shouted the same time the enemy Engineer barked, “Now boys!”

Cupid swung Spy around together they went down, foreheads coming close, eyes shutting as a white light engulfed them. Mid-transformation, they dodged the attacks with deft movements almost as if it was a convoluted dance. The enemy Heavy tried to bowl them over but they both spun around him and out of the way as graceful and poised as a master matador. The BLU Scout let out a yelp and Spy felt a brief spark of satisfaction; hopefully the lardass had ran over the pathetic stickbug. Pyro came from Cupid’s side and Cupid pulled Spy out of the way with a twirl and a chuckle. The Pyro ran into the Demoman and Soldier just as the two were about to jump in.

Spy and Sniper glowed brighter.

“What in tarnation?!”

Gunshots rang but it was too late for them. Spy and Cupid’s forms slipped away and the bullets slipped right through the shapeless white light. A moment later and the light started becoming solid, body parts coming to until it was a single form.

They were big. That was the first thing they noticed. The pebbles in the dry desert dirt seemed so abnormally small compared to their four hands. That was the second thing. They had an extra set of arms at their waist. Three eyes blinked and quizzically peered down at the tanned skin of their bare second arms, hands semi-covered with Cupid’s fingerless gloves. The third thing they noticed while they had the chance were the wings that hung on either side of them and brushed the dirt. White, soft, downy, and proportionally sized. Big enough...to be used to actually fly. Oh. Oh there was one _hell_ of a thought.

“What in zhe hell…. _are you,_ ” the BLU Medic breathed, awe a hidden thing.

The fusion lifted their head and met the pale faces of their enemy. They held themselves over the ground as if they caught themselves in a delicate fall and finished their routine there. But they were only just starting. It was their turn to take center stage and it was their big debut.

The fusion grinned.

“I don’t care what it is, just shoot it!”

The fusion’s three eyes narrowed, his right neon pink, his left steely grey, and the one in the middle of his forehead and pale, pale gunmetal pink. _‘Rude little bastard, that Engineer.’_

It felt all too easy to push their body up and off the ground, high above their enemies’ heads while another missed shot rang and bounced between the buildings.

“Rude!” It felt all too natural to grab a hidden throwing knife on their side, use the momentum to spin, and throw the knife. It flew with unerring accuracy and they felt such revelry when they heard the Engineer scream. The knife landed then! That was good to know. The fusion wondered how badly it hurt to have a brain stabbed through the eyeball. They unfurled their wings and by the time they stabilized in the air enough to land on a rooftop, the enemy Engineer had fallen to the dusty floor, dead as a doornail.

“The name’s...LoveOperative,” they said with a sadistic grin while they reached behind their head with their upper arms and took out a wicked looking pink crossbow. Their bottom arms reached again and pulled out a throwing knife each.

No one answered, not with words anyways.

The Heavy screamed and pulled out his machine gun, Soldier a growl and his rocket launcher, Demoman his grenade launcher with a guttural yell. Pyro stood threateningly with their flamethrower, Scout scowled and traded his bat for a shotgun. Medic stood silent over his comrade’s corpse, and their Sniper stood by the Medic’s side with his kukri out and ready. Engineer was dead and of course their Spy was hiding for now. Coward.

“But you can call me…” they lowered their body, grabbed a bolt from the quiver on their left side and readied their crossbow. “Lop!”

It was such a sickly sweet voice Lop said it with, candy-rottingly sweet. His eyes flashed red before they leapt off the high roof, wings tucked in tight and sinking fast through the air. The idiots all fired off at once but Lop was better than them like this, faster. All it took was a little shift of his wings and he was shooting off at an angle and for a wall. The bullets missed and Lop twisted on his heel as he landed. Two more knives were thrown, two more went down. This time it was the Heavy and the Soldier and Lop hit the ground before their bodies fell, feet propelling him off the wall he had lighted on for less than a second. He landed right in the middle of their group.

The rest of the survivor’s turned to face him but Lop was already up and spinning with his crossbow in hand. By the time anyone was able to raise their gun, Lop had taken down another of their teammates. Medic? What Medic. Lop knew the grin on his lips was disturbing just to see. He felt all the happier when it made the remaining visible enemies hesitate and in Scout’s case, flinch. Their loss!

Lop felt his body turn smaller on its own as he moved. He didn’t even need to consciously think about how a shorter body would be more advantageous for his next attack. His body just did it for him and he went from super tall to average human height in the blink of an eye, his own kukri in his bottom right hand as he leapt at the BLU Demoman. Blood spilled from their slit throat, drenched the front of their clothing and Lop’s crossbow clicked with another loaded poisoned bolt.

That was when Lop got his first taste of pain.

Heat washed across his back and for a tiny, tiny moment it felt good. And then it was _burning._ It hurt it hurt it hurt it **_H U R T._ ** Lop screamed and rolled forward. Fury raced through him. How dare they. How DARE THEY. Lop slid across the ground on his hands and knees, right eye twitching, wings floofed, body tense and ready to strike. The Pyro impassively stared back, black lenses of their mask never giving anything away. They tilted their head and Lop saw _red._

His screech was horrifying, barely human as he shot forward like a demon possessed. The BLU Sniper tried to meet Lop midway but these idiots obviously didn’t learn well.

Sniper swung his kukri and Lop let it happen, let him strike true and slice into the meat of his wing. The pain was worth seeing the shocked look in their eyes when Lop stabbed his own kukri through their stomach and then proceeded to use their still shoulder to aim and shoot over his back. Pyro’s head whipped backwards, a rosy bolt sticking out between their lenses. Their body fell backwards until they landed with a damning thud, still and silent.

“Holy fuckin’ shit-” Scout. They yelped and shut up as soon as Lop looked at them. Lop giggled and leaned forward. The kukri slid deeper and looked like Sniper wasn’t quite dead yet. Soon though if their weak gasp and cough of blood was anything to go by.

“Better hurry back,” Lop gleefully purred into the fading Sniper’s ear. “Otherwise your lil Scout may end up too broken to be put back together.”

Lop’s laugh was loud and shrill when he snatched the kukris out of both his bloodied wing and the Sniper’s stomach. His crossbow was put back in place on his back right between his wings and he wiped the blood the other had gotten on his cheek. Thankfully his half-balaclava was down about his neck otherwise it would’ve been stained. Lop looked at the blood on his thumb and started slowly walking closer to the petrified Scout. Red eyes met crystal blue and Lop took great pleasure in watching the blood leave the Scout’s face when Lop licked the red off his thumb.

The Scout was literally frozen in place it seemed because they didn’t move, not even when Lop cupped their cheeks in his upper hands, the lower ones preoccupied with mismatched weapons. But something was... off with this Scout. Lop just couldn’t put his finger on it. He turned the enemy’s head this way and that, critically peering at their features. They shook in his hands, body trembling. Everything looked about right. But then they flashed and for half a second they weren’t Scout.

Lop grinned and took a hand back only to sucker punch them in the gut. They toppled over his fist like a ragdoll. The facade flickered and faded.

“Nice try, Spook,” Lop hummed and started dragging them across blood and dirt by the back of their stupid suit.

The two kukris dripped red onto the dirt. A trail of blood trailed behind them and framed a set of footprints and a dragging line.

“You won’t win,” the Spy coughed out. Sounded wet. Did Lop break a rib or two? Maybe punctured a lung? Sounded excruciating. His grin widened. “Our Scout is-”

A loud, high-pitched scream belonging to a certain Scout came from the RED base and Lop could practically feel the Spy losing hope.

“You were saying?” Lop singsonged. His shape grew tall again and the Spy was just about hanging from Lop’s hand. He didn’t say anything. Another victory from Lop’s perspective. Not a moment later, he came out from the buildings. BLU spawn point was crawling with freshly revived enemies. They were all too far away to hear what was going on but Lop saw it when one of them caught sight of him. They all stopped moving and Lop felt all their eyes on him. Without turning, he hefted Spy up and slammed him against the wooden wall next to Lop. Barely a second later and he viciously stabbed the BLU Sniper’s kukri through the Spy’s stomach. The blade went clean through Spy...and deep into the wood. The only reason it didn’t go all the way through was because of Lop’s hand on the handle.

There were screams and yells, some indignant, some worried and panicked. They sounded like music to Lop’s ears.

Something sliced through his upper left arm.

Lop hissed and quickly looked at the thin scratch. Then he glanced at Spy from beneath his eyelashes and saw the blade in Spy’s hand. It was new….and covered in something. Lop knew what it was, somehow. Just from looking at it he had every bit of know how possible to recreate it and even make an antidote.

“Poison, lingering, strong,” Lop hummed, plucked the butterfly knife out of the dying Spy’s grasp, and looked it over appreciatively. “I’ll be dead in less than a minute. Long enough to be painful but quick enough that there’s nothing my Medic can do by the time he reaches my corpse. Good job. It only took you two hours and seventeen minutes for you to make this,” he glanced back at the Spy from the corner of his eyes, “right?”

The Spy gaped at Lop. Lop grinned and dropped the butterfly knife to the ground.

“Well played.”

Lop walked away. The enemy base behind him was silent as he slipped between the buildings again. As soon as he was out of their sights, Lop was jogging away. He needed to find somewhere secluded. It was easy enough when the enemy had basically given up. Didn’t help there wasn’t enough time for them to regroup and make another attempt to rush the RED base. No doubt Lop’s team was already on their way to finally steal a victory for themselves. Lop smirked.

Their losing streak was over.

The building was empty when Lop slipped into it and he shrunk in size to fit through the doorway.

“Okay,” he hummed. “Time for us to split.”

Lop stood there and waited. He needed to break apart so he could safely die. Medic told them not to risk going through respawn as a fusion. There was no way to know what would happen, new experiments and all. Besides, they couldn’t stay like this. Cupid had his job to pick off the enemies one by one from afar, pop their heads off their shoulders and all that. And Spy needed to get back into the ring, disguises and invisibility and all.

Ten seconds passed. Fifteen. Thirty. But nothing was happening. Lop’s head was spinning but he could keep time better than even Medic. He should’ve unfused by now. Why was he still whole. No. No no no NO!

“C-Come on! You feathered imbecile, let go!” A French lilt gilded Lop’s words. The fusion’s weak knees shook and he stumbled back until he hit the wall.

“You let go then!” An Australian gravel lull. Lop slid down and landed on his ass.

“I’m- trying!”

“Try harder!”

“Like you're one to talk, you vile bushman!”

“Oi!”

Colors were starting to leech from the world, a droplet of blood slipped from Lop’s nose. He felt so sick to his fucking stomach. Sick and cold and faint. How long had it been? His head fell back against the wood.

“Oh no….”

Death was familiar to them all by this point but Lop was new to it.

He didn’t like how cold it made him feel.

It felt like a few moments but when Lop woke, he wasn’t in respawn. No, he was in the medbay laying on his belly on a medical cot and it was dark. Moonlight gave quicksilver highlights to the room and left every color a muted fake. Lop quietly, calmly sat up with a raging headache and resisted the urge to hurl. A blanket slid off him and onto the floor. It was so quiet…

Cupid and Spy rarely gave Medic any reason to stay in the medbay longer than a few minutes, much less overnight. But Lop supposed that like this it was...nice.

A sudden snore made Lop nearly jump off his little bed. Wide eyes looked to the source and...paused. He smiled, fond.

There, on the old couch in the corner of Medic’s office area slept Scout, Engineer, and Medic in a hazardous pile. And then Lop was reminded why their team’s two brainiacs would be waiting, why those two would end up falling asleep in the same room.

Something went...wrong.

_‘We’re still fused, Spy.’_

_‘Yes, I can see that.’_

They both sounded dejected. Lop sighed. If they hadn’t unfused by now as they naturally should’ve when unconscious then… Lop bit his cheek and shoved the thought away for just a bit longer.

He looked down at his hands, all four of them. The fingerless gloves were gone. Funny enough, they left behind a pale shadow of themselves. Lop chuckled. Leave it to Cupid to get tan lines from _gloves._ His pink striped vest was gone, so was his undershirt and bright pink tie. His chest was bare and Lop would admit that it was weird for both sides of him to not see a single scar. From Spy, he felt curiosity about the new look. From Cupid...relief. Huh.

A quick glance around had him finding his shirt, vest, and gloves on a nearby table. His boots and socks were there too. They were left there for now. As long as he still had his burgundy slacks on, he was fine. The only thing left were his wings and a quick look over his shoulders confirmed what he already felt. They were still there.

Honestly, Lop had half-expected the Doc to try and dissect him in his sleep. Kind of thankful the man hadn’t.

Lop gave a tired grin. Slowly, his wings were stretched out. Slowly and carefully, an odd ache to them. They were big, bigger than he had honestly expected them to be. Big enough to be proportioned to his body like a proper bird’s wings would be. Big enough to actually fly with. But he also noticed how damn fluffy and _soft_ they were. Moved so they stretched out in front of his body, Lop ran his fingers over them. They were an off-white color and though it was hard to tell in the grey light, Lop would swear they had a pink tone to them. A blink-and-you-miss-it sort of tone.

Fingers dug beneath the feathers and naturally started preening, carefully feeling his way through each feather. Primaries and secondaries and tertiaries. Coverts and alulars and filoplumes. All of them. It felt like a familiar habit and as Lop gently plucked a broken secondary covert, he guessed that would be thanks to Cupid. The odd Sniper was the one with them in the first place after all. No doubt he had to take time out of every day to keep them in good condition.

While Lop continued on with the other wing, his thoughts wandered back to the issue at hand.

“Are you…” Those quiet, whispered words didn’t sound right. He shook his head.

“Are we,” he tried again but that _still_ didn’t sound right. Lop huffed.

“Am I.” There. That was the right way to go about it. The victory gave him a momentary smile but it soon slid away. “I’m stuck like this...aren’t I.”

No one answered and neither original side of Lop seemed to have anything to say about it.

What did that make him then? How could he be a fusion if he wasn’t able to break apart? Was he a freak? A mutant? There was no way he could head into town like this. Sure he could make himself the right height but four arms? Three eyes? A pair of _wings?_ They’d think he was a demon coming for their souls for how blinded by their bigotry they all were. No one there would stop to even think about asking a question. He was stuck like this… And he’d be stuck here.

Lop didn’t notice his hands stopped what they were doing, slowly wrapping around his middle. He didn’t see how his wings slowly curled around him. And he didn’t hear the set of tired footsteps coming closer.

“Snipes?”

Lop startled. The feathers of his wings floofed up, his eyes widened, his hands briefly clenched his forearms. He looked up into the tired crystalline eyes of Scout. Of Jack. Tired eyes, worried tilted lips, tousled longer blonde hair. There was curiosity from one part of him that was obviously Spy. But from Sniper- the adoration was like a drowning wave, deadly but so tender. As Jack stepped into the cocoon Lop’s wings made, he couldn’t help the way his face softened or how his shoulders relaxed, how every feather laid flat and smooth and his wings curled further behind the Scout.

“Hey, ‘Roo,” Lop quietly murmured. Scout hummed back and loosely wrapped his arms around Lop’s neck. Lop nuzzled Scout, nose buried in his neck, all four arms coming to drape around Scout. One of the lower ones was right around the runner’s waist while the other laid hanging and holding onto the side of Scout’s thigh, both easily drawing him in closer between Lop’s legs. But the top pair of hands were gently, ever so gently holding onto the back of Jack’s shirt.

“I’s good to hear some of Snipes is still in there, big guy,” Jack mumbled. He laid his weight into Lop and eventually Lop simply picked him up and carefully seated the other man in his lap. Jack had only a soft grumble of protest before he made himself comfortable. The familiarity lit a flickering flame in Lop’s chest. “I dunno about Spy but I can tell when Cupid is thinkin’ too much. Los’ in yer own head?”

“...A lil,” Lop answered after a moment’s hesitation. The words were reluctant to leave him, a part of him too reserved to ever admit such things to anyone. Lop knew exactly where to place that reaction. Or rather, with who. Still, he knew Jack could be trusted. “I’m scared, Jack.”

For half a second, his hold on the Scout tightened but just as quickly relaxed not a moment later.

“I’m scared of who I am, _what_ I am.” Now that he started, Lop couldn’t stop. The litany of words fled him. “I don’t know who I am. I’m Spy. I’m Cupid. But at the same time, I’m my own person. I-I’m Lop. And I don’t know who that is. I’m scared of that. And it’s not like I can just unfuse.”

There were tears starting up in the corners of his eyes. More and more they built up until a single blink set them off trailing down his cheeks. Even his third eye leaked and the sparse tears streaked down the sides of his nose.

Jack- the young man was an absolute sweetheart. He shushed Lop, pet his hair, kissed his forehead. And all the while he was murmuring in the quietest voice half of Lop could ever recall hearing.

“Hey, it’s okay, man,” the runner hummed. “Doc ‘n’ Engie ‘ll get it sorted, don’t worry right away.”

There was a moment’s hesitation where Lop wondered if all would eventually be well, if everything would turn out alright simply because that was how the world worked. But the thought came that things would get worse before they got better. He knew that. But still he nodded. Why? For the promise that it would, indeed, eventually get better.

“That’s better,” Jack crooned. Lop gently pulled back enough just to look at Jack, his hands loosely holding the young man. Soulful blue eyes. Brown roots and dyed platinum blonde hair. Messy bun barely holding together. Grip tape up to the middle of the upper arms. His red sweater was gone, just the navy tanktop left behind. That made Lop’s brows furrow in worry. Jack didn’t see that though and went off talking again.

“Let’s get you sleepin’ again fer now though.” Jack laid his chin on Lop’s shoulder. “We can start thinkin’ abou’ a solution in the- holy shit!”

Lop had gathered Jack in his arms and in one smooth move laid them both down on their sides on the uncomfortable metal cot. The wing that would’ve been under them had been left to droop and hang over the edge while the other...curled close around and behind Jack. Lop was quiet and cuddled Jack closer.

“Snipes?” Jack quietly asked.

“Your jacket’s off, love.” It was answer enough and they both knew it, Jack easily quieting back down. A pause and he ducked his head underneath Lop’s chin. “‘M surprised you’re not freezin’. How’s your...ya know, your arthritis?”

Jack was quiet for a bit of time and Lop understood. Both sides of him understood. They were aware of the scars hidden in the crooks of Jack’s elbows, aware of the lingering phantom pains the cold could bring, aware of how easily Jack could get cold. They understood the importance of his ever-present hoodie. And in turn, Lop understood the significance of it not being on the lithe runner.

Must’ve tossed it after the battle bloodsoaked as it would’ve been. Must’ve been too worried to even leave the medbay to grab a new one. And must’ve been too prideful still to ask for a blanket or something even though they both knew Medic was more than aware of Jack’s issues with the cold.

“Better with you wrapped aroun’ me like this.” The murmur was so quiet, so soft that Lop almost didn’t hear it. The admittance was a moment of weakness for Jack, Lop knew. He was always so adamant that he was independent, that he was self-sufficient, that he didn’t need anyone’s help. The time it took for him to finally give in to Cupid’s care was nearly ridiculous. He was glad the sniper had done it though. Every part of him was.

Lop held Jack closer.

“You know, I’m glad abou’ one thing righ’ now,” Jack hummed a few minutes later. Lop, sleepy enough to not care, only gave a hum back in acknowledgement. “Everyone jokes about it, I know they do when they think I’m not listenin’ or around but I know Spy ain’t my Dad.”

Lop wasn’t surprised. Obviously he knew this through said man but he still popped open a bright pink eye, the moonlight glittering through the small overhead windows just enough to give shape in the darkness.

“I don’t think Spy knows this one an’ Cupid would fer sure do all he could tah hide it from the dick but I know it’s true because...well, my Uncle’s the BLU Spy.”

That...came as a bit of a surprise. A tension he hadn’t noticed lingering within seemed to give and relief spread through his mind. Huh. Briefly, Lop thought back to the gruesome death he had given the enemy Spy and suppressed a wince. Well. That had happened then. Jack seemed to catch on though and gave a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, I know. But he’d recognize my bastard dad anywhere. Probably kill him too, find a way around respawn and everythin’. Hates him jus’ as much as I do. I do know the asshole is workin’ for Mann Co. though, jus’ somewhere else.”

“He comes here,” Lop sleepily began muttering, “and we’ll make sure he regrets even thinkin’ about it, Roo.”

There was barely a moment until Jack curled in closer. Lop could feel the wide smile through his shirt.

“Thanks, Cupid…. You too, Spy. I know you care. I’ve seen the special help I get from you on the field. Appreciate it all, friend.”

When Lop spoke again, his one voice separated into two on the last word.

“Anytime, Roo.”  
“Anytime, _lapin_.”

It...surprised him. But also gave him a flicker of hope.

“See?” Jack snuggled in closer - as if he could get any closer. “Already on the way to doin’ better. Now, for fuck’s sake, let me sleep you assholes.”

Lop snorted but kept quiet. It didn’t take long for Jack to finally fall asleep. Warm with a blanket of feathers covering him head to toe and a mate to snuggle with, it wasn’t any surprise. Lop opened his eyes though once he was sure the runner was asleep and just...looked. He looked and admired Jack and wasn’t afraid to do so.

Jack was kind. Not many on the team would wholly believe it or be willing to admit it but he was. Cupid had seen it from the first time they met. Seen it in his eyes, the way he held himself, how he looked around as soon something sounded off with someone. Jack bled kindness but hid it. And Spy...he had seen it emerge over time. When the young man had found Pyro’s missing stuffed animal and put it on the firebug’s bed when the other merc was out. He had seen it in the late hours when the runner was up and cleaning the mess left behind by someone else in the kitchen. Spy had seen it over and over and this only cemented that belief.

Lop had gone through a lot for his first time as a fusion. And he was glad he had Jack as support. Gods above knew Lop would need it if he was going to be stuck like this for a while.

Lop passed out with the moon just beginning it’s descent in the desert sky and Jack wrapped around him like a monkey. The cot didn’t seem as terrible now.

**Author's Note:**

> LoveOperative (or Lop for short) is a fusion I made...I think in 2018. This is the first time I've written anything for him outside of an RP and I hope it shows just how much I love him. If you're interested in what he looks like, here's his [newest ref](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1LYzO2VTgOEykOBLbr-8-TJpNXttieO3H/view?usp=sharing)! Many thanks again to GlitchedHound over on Twitter, they are the BOMB!!!!!!
> 
> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/ToastyDehmer)   
>  [My Tumblr](https://toastydehmer.tumblr.com/)


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